Chapter Ninety-Six: The Most Desired Outcome

The winter rain had been falling relentlessly for days, showing no sign of stopping. Carried by the biting cold wind, it pierced deep into the soul.

I pushed open the window, and the wind, mixed with rain, rushed through the narrow gap, instantly filling the room with frigid air. I wondered if my already chilled heart could withstand the icy rain, or how much more of this harsh winter it could bear. So I stood motionless by the window, letting the cold droplets lash my face, and my vision blurred into a hazy mist...

Yet, this rain would eventually cease, just as life must go on.

When you miss someone, even if it hurts, there is at least a thread of attachment. But if one day I no longer think of anyone, then those memories and people lose all meaning. Resolutely, I deleted every photo of Lele from my computer—not out of moodiness but because I wanted to erase all the once beautiful moments.

Time slipped quietly through my fingers; days flew by, and before I knew it, it was 2009.

The newborn sun burned a bloody red, piercing and dazzling. Last night, a friend was upset, so I stayed up chatting with her on QQ until after three in the morning, then listened to music by the computer until dawn—completely sleepless. Exhausted, I rested my head on the desk and nervously flipped through a novel on my phone. My swollen eyes throbbed faintly with pain.

Chen Yuan and Zhang Qi had moved back to the dormitory in the first semester of junior year. Living alone outside was too lonely, so when the new semester began, I returned to the dorm too. After all, living in the dorm meant I wouldn’t feel so isolated as when I was on my own.

In the nearly half-year that followed, many things happened. I chose to quit the student union’s discipline department since I gained no real skills there and mostly did nothing. Quitting was perhaps for the best. After all, one need not join a club to grow; there are many other ways.

Somewhere along the way, I became enamored with seeking out familiar feelings in life. Though I often reminded myself that everything was in the past, more often than not, I still lived in the past—lost in the virtual world of games...

Having grown used to staring blankly at the game screen day after day, I found myself oddly nostalgic for those busy yet fulfilling days of high school. Suddenly, I felt ridiculous—as if I had never been so decadent before. Skipping classes, failing exams—it all seemed normal now. Of the 24 hours in a day, at least 80% were spent curled up in bed in the dorm, often forgetting even to eat. Perhaps since Lele left, the meaning of life had utterly vanished.

Accustomed to deception, resigned to lies, I no longer believed in love. Yet deep in the corner of my heart, a voice kept reminding me that I still loved Lele.

Lele, perhaps you will never know that when I once thought I loved you the most, I actually did not love you enough. Back then, I always neglected you in the farthest corner, forgetting your existence. Maybe that’s why you were disappointed in me and finally left without looking back, following your parents to Spain.

But isn’t your choice exactly the outcome I once desired most?

Lele, only after you left did I realize that my love for you had already reached its peak. But I understood it too late—the distance cruelly separated our hearts forever into two utterly different countries. Perhaps only with closed eyes can I still feel you beside me.

I can make myself stop thinking of you, but I cannot stop the tears from falling.

After class, classmates packed their luggage and headed to the student street to catch rides home. Tomorrow was International Workers’ Day. Though the government canceled the Golden Week, almost everyone still habitually chose to go home—except me.

Mom often complained that I wasn’t a home-loving child and never called home on my own, but I knew it was simply because I didn’t know how to express myself.

The dorm was deserted during the holiday, quieter than usual but imbued with a rare tranquility. Sitting alone by the bed, I quietly stared at the computer.

“There will always be nights that wake yourself,
Unveiling a tomorrow without you.
The wheat fields beneath the terrace refuse to go home,
Stealing glances at photos of our joyful faces.
Who hasn’t been heartbroken for love,
Crying with innocent, world-weary eyes?
I’ve long understood, yet my heart refuses to yield,
Just wanting to find someone to accompany me,
Yet it’s so hard.
How far is forever?
Will we become immortals?
I chase desperately,
Learning to fly,
But how can I catch up with your lies?
Tell me, how far is forever?
Surely it’s just a little,
Surely you’ve told hundreds of people a thousand times,
Don’t risk it all for eternity.
There will always be nights that wake yourself,
Unveiling a tomorrow without you—
So-called forever is but a moment...”

The classic old song “How Far Is Forever” by Chen Feiping played on QQ Music. Her fresh and bright voice stirred an inexplicable ache in my heart.

“Xiaobei, if one day...”

In an instant, I seemed to return to that winter, back to the Christmas tree.

“Xiaobei, I... I just want to know, if... if one day... how long will you remember me?”

“Forever... forever.”

...

I told myself, “I don’t want to lose you. I never want to lose you...”

Lele, do you know? From the moment I met you, I knew you would be my eternal concern and vigil in this life. Since ancient times, many have asked the same question: How far is forever?

I have asked myself countless times in my heart.

Perhaps forever isn’t so far. Forever ends the moment you no longer love me. But I don’t know whether that is good or bad for me.

If yesterday were forever, then would our promises have been broken? If after tomorrow is the end of the world, would our love have been enough to last forever?

My mind wandered wildly until a dull ache pressed behind my eyes. Glancing unintentionally, I noticed an empty cup beside the monitor. Thirsty, I prepared to get up for water. Yet just as I rose, a strange impulse made me open my QQ mailbox—a place I hadn’t touched for half a year.

There, in the inbox, was an email from Lele, sent on January 6, 2009...

(Chapter revised on October 21, 2010)